


The Cure

by Kahvi



Category: Twilight Zone
Genre: Community: queer_fest, Gen, Queer Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 12:43:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahvi/pseuds/Kahvi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story was originally written for the <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/lgbtfest">LGBT Fest challenge</a> on Livejournal. The prompt was to write a <i>Twilight Zone</i> episode dealing with the issue of homosexuality. I chose to interpret this as 'how The Twilight Zone might have chosen to tackle the issue of homosexuality'; in other words, the script is written as it might have been in the early 60's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cure

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for ages ago, but I didn't make the deadline, and didn't know where else to post it. I wanted to share it, so I've decided to just put it up here. If anyone knows a good place to post it, please let me know! The prompt was to write a _Twilight Zone_ episode dealing with the issue of homosexuality. I chose to interpret this as 'how The Twilight Zone might have chosen to tackle the issue of homosexuality'; in other words, the script is written as it might have been in the early 60's. Any feeback is welcome, especially constructive criticism!

**THE CURE**

 

INT. CLINIC – DAY

A pleasant but impersonal-looking waiting room. A group of chairs around a table, a reception desk with a female RECEPTIONIST dressed in white working calmly behind it. Two abstract paintings hang on the wall, in soothing, subdued colors.

MR. ADAMS, a pale, worried looking man in his early twenties enters, accompanied by ELANOR, a nervous-looking young woman about the same age.

RECEPTIONIST: (noticing them) The doctor will see you now, Mr. Adams.

ELANOR: (patting MR. ADAMS hesitantly on his arm) It will be all right, won't it?

MR. ADAMS nods, hesitantly.

ELANOR: (looking down, then away) I'll be back to pick you up in about half an hour. (To RECEPTIONIST) That's how long they said it would take, wasn't it?

RECEPTIONIST: (smiling, reassuringly) That's right. Half an hour for the initial assessment.

ELANOR: (wide-eyed) Initial? But... does that mean...

MR. ADAMS: (reassuring her) It's all right, Elanor. We don't know anything yet. The doctor is just going to take a look at me, to find out if there's anything wrong. That's why we're here, isn't it? (careful smile)

ELANOR: (hesitantly) I suppose so.

RECEPTIONIST: Don't worry, ma'am – Doctor Curtis is among the best in his field. I'm sure your...

ELANOR: (interrupting, a little too abruptly) Brother.

RECEPTIONIST: I'm sure your brother will be fine. (To MR. ADAMS) If you'll just come this way?

The RECEPTIONIST and MR. ADAMS walk away. ELANOR remains for a moment, the camera closing in on her worried face.

 

INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE - DAY

DOCTOR CURTIS, a handsome, healthy-looking man in his early fifties, is seated behind a very tidy desk, looking through a file with a thoughtful expression. He looks up as the door opens. The RECEPTIONIST shows MR. ADAMS in.

RECEPTIONIST: Mr. Adams here to see you, doctor.

DOCTOR CURTIS: Thank you, Janet.

The RECEPTIONIST nods, closing the door. MR. ADAMS remains standing, looking nervous.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (not looking up from his file) Have a seat.

MR. ADAMS sits down in the chair opposite, looking a little uncomfortable.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (closing the file, looking up with a brilliant smile) I'm sorry about that – difficult case, you see. (Reaching hand out across desk) Doctor Aaron Curtis; how do you do?

MR. ADAMS: (shaking hands) Wayne Adams; pleasure to meet you, doctor. (Suddenly somewhat excited) I've read your treatise about reproduction and the human mind.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (surprised) Really? All of it?

MR. ADAMS: Cover to cover! (Growing serious) I really hope you can help me, doctor.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (smiling gently) I'm sure you're aware of the success rate of our clinic, Mr Adams. I haven't met a person yet I couldn't help.

MR. ADAMS: (visibly relieved) I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that, doctor. You see... (a quick smile) I'm getting married. My folks aren't too pleased about it, to tell you the truth; they think I should get my degree first.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (carefully) But you want to get it done as quickly as possible.

MR. ADAMS: That's right – how did you know?

DOCTOR CURTIS: It's not an uncommon thing for our clients – we don't like to use the word patient here – to want.

MR. ADAMS: (face falls) I see.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (gets up and walks around the desk, leaning against the edge of it) There really is nothing to be ashamed of, Mr. Adams. You're not alone. Statistics alone tells us that millions of Americans suffer from the same exact thing as you, and the vast majority of them are decent, ordinary folks like you and me.

MR. ADAMS: (grits teeth) I'm not like you. I'm... abnormal.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (walking over to a cabinet by the wall) Not at all, Mr. Adams! You simply have a chemical imbalance in your brain. (Opens cabinet and takes out a small plastic bottle of pills) One that can be corrected.

MR. ADAMS: (staring at the bottle) You can cure me?

DOCTOR CURTIS: You're not diseased, Mr Adams. Think of your condition as a calcium deficiency, or a lack of vitamin C. When people don't get enough vitamin C, they can get scurvy. When a person's brain doesn't get the right supply of chemicals, his or her sex drive can become diverted from its normal, natural purpose, and he or she becomes attracted to the wrong sex. These pills provide right chemicals, and restores balance in your brain.

MR. ADAMS: (still staring) I see... (looking up) Doctor, is this for real?

DOCTOR CURTIS: (smiling widely, putting the pills back down) As real as it gets, son!

MR. ADAMS suddenly springs up from his seat, hugging DOCTOR CURTIS tightly. Closeup of DOCTOR CURTIS's face, looking mildly shocked.

MR. ADAMS: (desperately) I want to be normal, Doctor! All I want is just to be normal, like everybody else! (pulls away, looking into DOCTOR CURTIS's eyes) Please… make me…

The camera pans to show the shadows of MR. ADAMS and DOCTOR CURTIS – it appears that MR. ADAMS is passionately kissing DOCTOR CURTIS. Pan back as we see DOCTOR CURTIS pull away. The two men regard one another cautiously for a few moments, and MR. ADAMS sits back down.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (measuredly) Let's say we just forget about that little outburst for now. I think we're done here for today – Janet will see you out. I'll see to it that you get a prescription.

MR. ADAMS: (moved) Thank you, Doctor!

DOCTOR CURTIS presses a buzzer on his table. Shortly afterwards, the door opens, and the RECEPTIONIST appears. The two men shake hands. The door closes. DOCTOR CURTIS sits back down, waits a beat, then hurriedly walks back to the cabinet, fumbles it open, and removes a bottle. Unscrewing it with shaking hands, he pours two pills into his hand, and swallows them, squeezing his eyes shut, as if in pain.

Music swells dramatically, as we cut to to ROD SERLING, standing by the cabinet.

ROD SERLING: Two very ordinary men, not unlike you and me, in a time not far from our own, sharing the same secret affliction. Two very different men, who both just want to be normal, each with his own, personal, desperate need for a cure. And in this world, there is cure for what ails them. For this world, this place… is found within the Twilight Zone.

CREDITS

 

INT. RESTAURANT – EVENING

DOCTOR CURTIS is seated at a table with ALAN, a well dressed, attractive man in his mid-thirties. Two glasses of wine and two nearly empty plates are on the table – it is evident that the meal is almost over. Both men are smoking.

DOCTOR CURTIS: I don't know, Alan. Some cases just get to me more than others.

ALAN: I don't see why they should; you can cure them all, can't you?

DOCTOR CURTIS: Well, yes. The formula works for everyone…

ALAN: (interrupting) Then what's the problem?

DOCTOR CURTIS: …it works for everyone, providing the subject is motivated.

ALAN: (frowning) Motivated? Who wouldn't want to be normal?

DOCTOR CURTIS: The human mind is a complex thing. We've found that some subjects do not respond well to the formula, such as for example… (puts out cigarette and fixes eyes on ALAN) You're aware of the fact that there is a social network for deviants? There are secret clubs that they frequent, certain areas where they seek one another out… (suddenly hesitant) I'm sorry, Alan, this is hardly a subject fit for polite conversation. If you weren't a physician, I wouldn't even have mentioned it.

ALAN: (grimacing) It may not be a pleasant subject, but it's certainly useful for me to know about. You know I've referred several patients to you. Please, go on.

DOCTOR CURTIS: There seems to be an underlying sense of community among these people. A family feeling – if I may be so crass as to use that term – no doubt having developed to replace the families these people often alienate, or feel 'do not understand' them. This _community_, for want of a better word, is often quite appealing to a certain type of young person. These youngsters often end up as our clients, when brought in by concerned parents.

ALAN (crumpling a napkin and mumbling) The seduction of the innocent…

DOCTOR CURTIS: When a young person's mind has already been conditioned to accept that deviance is normal… (shakes his head) The formula still helps them, but of course they often refuse, or only pretend to take it. And even when they do follow the suggested dosage, they still try to fight it, consciously or subconsciously.

ALAN shakes his head in sadness and disbelief.

DOCTOR CURTIS: It's a sad business. Anyway, (attempting to lighten the mood)

enough about my problems. What's new with you; how are you getting on with that sweet young nurse you're always telling me about?

ALAN: (laughing) Oh, I don't know. We've gone out to dinner a couple of times, all very amicable, but...

DOCTOR CURTIS: (raising an eyebrow) But what?

ALAN: I feel like I'm robbing the cradle. What would a nineteen year old beauty want with an old codger like me? That's what I keep asking myself.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (laughs derisively) Oh, come now. If you're an old codger, what does that make me?

ALAN: (winking) A devlishly handsome brother in law.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (smile fades a little; he becomes noticably uncomfortable, but tries to hide it) Yes, well.

An uncomfortable silence follows, after which DOCTOR CURTIS asks for the check. ALAN seems confused, DOCTOR CURTIS avoidant.

 

EXT. CITY STREET OUTSIDE THE RESTAURANT – EVENING

It is raining. DOCTOR CURTIS is attempting to smoke, but he does not have an umbrella, and the cigarette will not light up. Behind him, cheerful diners can be seen through the restaurant's windows. He gives up, and is about to hail a taxi, when ALAN rushes up to him, holding an umbrella. DOCTOR CURTIS greets him, still somewhat uncomfortably.

ALAN: I can't believe I forgot to ask about the latest news!

DOCTOR CURTIS: (confused) News? What kind of news?

ALAN: What do you mean, 'what kind of news' – the adoption!

DOCTOR CURTIS: (embarrassed) Oh. Of course.

ALAN: Mom called me yesterday and told me Alex was staying with her for a few days. She told me you'd found someone in up there in Ohio?

DOCTOR CURTIS: Yes, a very nice young lady, five months along. Alex went up to meet with her, start negotiations. (Delicately) We've decided to deal with the mother personally.

ALAN: (respectfully) Sure. Swell. That's swell. How is Alex? Mom sounded a little anxious on the phone…

DOCTOR CURTIS: (curtly) Fine. Just fine, Alan.

ALAN: (taking a step back) I didn't mean to imply anything. I know this process has put a strain on the two of you.

DOCTOR CURTIS: I know. I'm just… I'm just tired. It's been a long day.

ALAN: (watching him curiously) Sure. You get yourself home and have a good night's rest. And I'll see you Saturday?

DOCTOR CURTIS: (looks on as ALAN pats him on the arm) Saturday…

ALAN: The dinner party? Alex will be home in time for that, right?

DOCTOR CURTIS: (still looking at ALAN's hand on his arm) Right.

ALAN: (hurrying off) See you then!

DOCTOR CURTIS remains standing for a while. Closeup of his face, rain running down the brim of his hat. In the restaurant window in the background, we see one half of a couple, a woman, giving a toast. DOCTOR CURTIS closes his eyes, appearing to school himself to calm. As the woman's glass chinks with that of her unseen dining companion, DOCTOR CURTIS hails a cab.

DOCTOR CURTIS: Taxi!

 

INT. DOCTOR CURTIS'S OFFICE – DAY

MR. ADAMS is seated in the chair opposite DOCTOR CURTIS, holding his hat in his hands. He twists it around nervously throughout the conversation. DOCTOR CURTIS is looking at a chart, apparently only partially paying attention to what MR. ADAMS is saying.

MR. ADAMS: I guess what I'm asking, Doctor Curtis, is when will they start to kick in? The pills, I mean?

DOCTOR CURTIS: (distractedly) Hm?

MR. ADAMS: It's just, I don't feel any… (awkwardly) different. Yet. I know it's only been five days, but, well, the wedding is next month. I'm meeting the in-laws tomorrow, and I'm a little nervous about it, see?

DOCTOR CURTIS: (looking up) That's perfectly normal. You'd feel nervous about meeting them even if you didn't have an imbalance in your brain, wouldn't you?

MR. ADAMS: I suppose so, but…

DOCTOR CURTIS: (reassuringly) You're a young, healthy man with clean interests. You're the perfect candidate for this treatment, and I can promise you it will work wonders. You just need to give it a little time.

MR. ADAMS: (hesitating) All right, if you say so.

DOCTOR CURTIS: Well, then. (Looks back down at the chart.)

MR. ADAMS: (still hesitating) It's very hard, you know.

DOCTOR CURTIS looks back up at him, giving his full attention.

MR. ADAMS: I'll be in a restaurant with my fiancé, and there'll be all these… people around. And I can't help looking at them. I don't want to, honest! I just can't help myself.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (quietly) That's perfectly normal.

MR. ADAMS: And I get these weird dreams. I still do, even after the pills.

DOCTOR CURTIS: It's going to take some time…

MR. ADAMS: (interrupting) How much time though, Doc? It's been nearly a week, and I don't feel any different.

DOCTOR CURTIS: It could take even longer than that. Don't you worry; we'll have you fixed in time for the wedding.

MR. ADAMS laughs, suddenly.

DOCTOR CURTIS: What's the matter?

MR. ADAMS: Well, it's just the way you said 'fixed'. Like a dog, you know?

DOCTOR CURTIS smiles politely, but as the camera closes in on his face, worry shines through.

 

INT. THE CURTIS'S APARTMENT – EVENING

A lavishly furnished sitting room. Plush carpets on the floor, leather armchairs, rich curtains, which are drawn. The light is dim. DOCTOR CURTIS is seated in one of the armchairs, watching a program on a television set of the latest make and model. There is a telephone on a desk on the right side of the room. To the left of the chair stands a small mahogany table, with a drink placed on it. From time to time, he takes a sip of the drink.

The camera pans to behind and to the right of DOCTOR CURTIS, showing the television screen. A YOUNG LADY is being interviewed. She is conservatively dressed and soft spoken. The HOST is a pleasant-looking man in a dark suit.

HOST: And that's when you went to see Doctor Curtis?

YOUNG LADY: That's right. Doctor Curtis made me the woman I am today. I'm not sure what I would have done without him.

HOST: Some claim that the treatment has side effects – depression, nausea, confusion…

YOUNG LADY: (shaking head vigorously) Oh no, not at all. I've been on the pills for six months now, and I feel wonderful. In fact, I just got engaged!

The audience applauds, and the YOUNG LADY beams.

HOST: Well, congratulations. And I understand you've brought your fiancé with you tonight?

YOUNG LADY: Yes, as a matter of fact -

At this point, the telephone rings. DOCTOR CURTIS rises to take it, obscuring most of the television screen. Throughout the conversation, the television program can be heard dimly in the background, clearer during pauses. Glimpses can also been seen of the YOUNG LADY.

DOCTOR CURTIS: Doctor Curtis speaking. (Voice softens.) Alex. How are you? (Pause.) Good. That's good. How's your mother? (A longer pause.) I'm not avoiding anything. Of course I want to know.

YOUNG LADY: (on the television) Well, yes, I suppose you do notice a change in yourself. The pills do change you; that's rather the point, isn't it?

DOCTOR CURTIS: (on the telephone) I want this baby as much as you do. We've talked about this. (Pause.) No, Alex, I haven't changed my mind. If the mother agrees… (Realizing he misspoke, grimaces) No, I didn't mean it that way. Of course she won't be the real mother. (Pause.) Alex!

DOCTOR CURTIS holds the receiver away from himself, looking at it. ALEX has evidently hung up. He sighs, lost in thought as the television behind him keeps broadcasting.

YOUNG LADY: (on the television) I can live a normal life now. You can't begin to imagine what that means to me.

Abruptly, DOCTOR CURTIS turns, walking over to change the channel. A sports broadcast replaces the talk show; male weight lifters are competing. A VOICEOVER cheerfully comments on the antics of the athletes. DOCTOR CURTIS sits back down in the chair, rummaging in his pocket for something. He takes out a bottle of the type we have seen before, unscrewing the top and tipping two pills into the palm of his hand. Rather than take the pills, however, his eyes are drawn to the screen.

VOICEOVER: Young William Tuttle from California has only just turned 21, but he's our best hope to win the international title. Just watch those biceps working!

DOCTOR CURTIS blinks at the screen. Cut to a closeup of the television screen, where the preformer's muscles are glistening with sweat. Cut back to DOCTOR CURTIS, his palm open, with the pills still on it. His expression is blank, but he is staring at the screen.

VOICEOVER: Now there's a prime example of fine American manhood!

The camera cuts back and forth between the weight lifter and DOCTOR CURTIS, with closeups of DOCTOR CURTIS's eyes, open palm, and the weight lifter's athletic body. Finally, DOCTOR CURTIS pockets the pills angrily, finishes his drink, slams it down on the table, turns the television off, and exits.

 

INT. TAXI - EVENING

DOCTOR CURTIS sits in the back of a taxi, looking mournful. Eeerie music plays as he rides in silence. He takes the bottle of pills out of his pocket, and examines it, reading the label over and over again. After a while, he notices the cab driver watching him through the rear-view mirror, looks back at him sharply, and replaces the bottle.

 

MONTAGE

DOCTOR CURTIS moves from bar to bar. Shots of him drinking and looking sullen, are interspersed with various attractive faces and bodies; male and female. All smiling, some laughing. The MONTAGE ends with DOCTOR CURTIS seated at a bar, watching a WOMAN out of the corner of his eye. The WOMAN gives him a barely noticable visual cue, and leaves. DOCTOR CURTIS finishes his drink, and after a beat, follows her.

 

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

Shot opens on an open window, showing a cityscape at night. A puff of smoke drifts past as the camera pans out, revealing the WOMAN from the bar. In this light, we see that she is about the same age as DOCTOR CURTIS, and rather heavily made up. She is dressed in a night gown, and stands by the window smoking as the camera pans out further, revealing a bed, where DOCTOR CURTIS is seated on the edge. DOCTOR CURTIS looks dishevelled, tired, and dejected. His hair is mussed, and his shirt is open.

WOMAN: (languidly, still looking out the window) Why do you even bother?

DOCTOR CURTIS: What?

WOMAN: Pretending. Christ; you didn't even take your wedding ring off. (Gestures to DOCTOR CURTIS's hand.)

DOCTOR CURTIS: (rubbing left hand self conciously) It isn't like that. I love Alex.

WOMAN: Who's that; your wife? (Enounciating clearly)

DOCTOR CURTIS: (getting up, pointing an angry finger at the WOMAN) Now you listen here...

WOMAN: All right; don't get your panties in a bunch. (Takes another puff of cigarette.) That's what I'm talking about right there. All that pent-up aggression. Doesn't do any one of us any good.

DOCTOR CURTIS lowers his hand, and sits back down on the bed. The WOMAN walks over, and puts a hand on his shoulder, gently.

WOMAN: I had a sister, you know. Older than me, if you can imagine such a thing. They put her on those miracle pills; the ones they keep talking about in the papers?

DOCTOR CURTIS nods, clearly uncomfortable.

WOMAN: (laughs bitterly) You know, there used to be a time when you could hardly mention these matters even in the privacy of your own home. But the pills, oh, they changed that. All of a sudden it's OK, because there's a cure. (Takes a long pull at her cigarette, eyes narrow) Fat load of good it did Susan.

DOCTOR CURTIS visibly tenses. CLOSEUP of the WOMAN's hand now clutching his shoulder.

WOMAN: The doctors said she started taking them too late, which doesn't make a lot of sense when you see the advertising. There isn't supposed to be a 'too late'.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (defensively) It's not advertised. There's just been a lot of attention from the media…

WOMAN: (humorless smile) Looked into it, have you? Well, take my advice, and stay clear.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (carefully) Your sister… the cure didn't work for her?

WOMAN: Oh, on the contrary, it worked like a charm. She transformed overnight. She changed her wardrobe, changed her hair, even started using make up. Said she had to let it show on the outside too. She kept telling me how happy she was. Within a month, she got engaged. I took her shopping for wedding dresses, and she kept saying, over and over 'I'm so happy; it's like I'm a different person'. Over and over again. (Finds an ashtray, puts the cigarette out.) Then she killed herself.

DRAMATIC MUSIC plays as DOCTOR CURTIS starts. FADE OUT on his startled face.

 

INT. CLINIC - DAY

DOCTOR CURTIS, wearing a hat and coat and carrying a briefcase, hurries towards his office. He has clearly just arrived for working in the morning. He looks sullen and withdrawn, only barely acknowledging the co-workers who greet him. As he passes her desk, the RECEPTIONIST stops him.

RECEPTIONIST: Oh, Doctor Curtis, a patient called for you this morning.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (confused) This morning? But it's only 8:30 now. I came in early for a meeting.

RECEPTIONIS: Yes, he was here before I arrived. He said he wanted to make sure he didn't miss you. I told him you would be in a meeting all morning, and that he should come back this afternoon.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (wary) Who was it?

RECEPTIONIST: Wayne Adams. He said it was urgent.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (quietly) I see.

The RECEPTIONIST returns to her work, but DOCTOR CURTIS remains, appearing lost in thought.

RECEPTIONIST: Is there anything else I can do for you, doctor?

DOCTOR CURTIS: (discreetly) Janet... may I ask you a personal question?

RECEPTIONIST: (without a second thought) Certainly, Doctor Curtis.

DOCTOR CURTIS: You've been treated here, haven't you?

RECEPTIONIST: (almost amused) Why yes, Doctor Curtis. You know that; you renewed my prescription when Doctor Oliver was away.

DOCTOR CURTIS: And how long have you been taking the pills?

RECEPTIONIST: (considers) Oh... six months or so, I should think. Yes, that's right, because I met Sam about one month later, and we just celebrated our five month anniversary.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (uncertain smile) Yes, you're engaged now, aren't you? I'm sorry, I'm not sure I've congratulated you on that.

RECEPTIONIST: That's quite all right, Doctor Curtis. You've done more than enough for me already. (Pleasant smile) Thanks to you, I'm a different person.

MUSIC SWELLS as Doctor Curtis excuses himself. FADE OUT on the still-smiling, blissful-looking face of the receptionist.

 

INT. THE CURTIS'S APARTMENT – EVENING

ALAN and DOCTOR CURTIS are seated in the living room, smoking. Two sofas face one another, with a coffee table between them. DOCTOR CURTIS is seated in one sofa, ALAN opposite him. There are two half-full glasses on the table in front of them. ALAN looks apprehensive, DOCTOR CURTIS worried.

DOCTOR CURTIS: I'm glad you could come by a little early. I've not been feeling myself lately, and I'm not sure if I could face this evening without talking to someone about it. Alex won't be back until after dinner...

ALAN: Yes, you told me on the phone. (Worried) What's going on, Aaron? Is something wrong between you and Alex?

DOCTOR CURTIS: No... Not really. It's... (plays with his wedding ring) You've known me a long time, Alan.

ALAN: (humor) Sure, unless my college roommate was a completely different, yet identical-looking Aaron Curtis.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (serious) Maybe he was.

ALAN: (confused) What?

DOCTOR CURTIS: Do you remember when I met Alex?

ALAN: Of course I remember! It was five years ago, just after you'd made your discovery. Alex was just back from school in France, and I introduced you. You two hit it off right away.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (grimly) Yes, we did, didn't we?

ALAN: Aaron, what's this about?

DOCTOR CURTIS: (locks eyes with ALAN) Just tell me this, Alan. You know me better than anyone; the person I was back then - the person I am now - are they different? Have I... changed?

There is a moment of tension-filled silence, before ALAN bursts into laughter.

ALAN: Is that all? My friend, you're suffering from a little something called a mid-life crisis. Of course you're different; people change. You were too wrapped up in your studies, and then your work - you didn't have time to date. Then you met Alex and, well... (shrugs) And now you're starting a family, feeling your age... (pats DOCTOR CURTIS's gut playfully)

DOCTOR CURTIS: (careful smile) I suppose you're right.

ALAN: Of course I'm right! Now, let's get you ready for that dinner party!

The two men laugh and chat together amicably as they walk out of shot.

 

INT. THE CURTIS'S APARTMENT – EVENING

Five people are gathered in the living room, the RECEPTIONIST, a BLONDE WOMAN, DOCTOR CURTIS, ALAN and a BLOND MAN. The two women are seated in one sofa along with DOCTOR CURTIS; the two other men in the sofa opposite. Jazz music is playing in the background, and the group is chatting animatedly, but pleasantly. Drinks are on the table, and cigarette smoke is in the air. Both women, as well as ALAN and the YOUNG MAN are smoking. An ashtray is on the table, already full. There is a burst of laughter, and the conversation stills.

RECEPTIONIST: (To DOCTOR CURTIS) Thank you again for having us over, Doctor Curtis. It's been a wonderful evening.

BLOND MAN: Yes, it's been lovely.

RECEPTIONIST: And how kind of you to invite Sam, too.

DOCTOR CURTIS: Think nothing of it; consider it a belated engagement party.

DOCTOR CURTIS raises his glass in a toast, and the others join him.

DOCTOR CURTIS: To the happy couple!

THE OTHERS: To the happy couple!

The RECEPTIONIST and the BLONDE WOMAN smile at one another, and chink their glasses together, giggling. Across the table, the BLOND MAN winks at them, then leans over to chink his glass with the RECEPTIONIST. They smile at one another.

ALAN: Congratulations, you two. It's so nice to young people finding one another. (mock-contemplative) Now, if only I could find someone decent enough to marry, I could get engaged too.

BLONDE WOMAN: (shocked) Alan!

BLOND MAN: (slapping ALAN on the back) Oh, he's just fooling around.

ALAN: (rubbing his arm and laughing) Easy there, slugger! Remember, I'm twice your age.

BLOND MAN: So you keep saying.

BLONDE WOMAN: Seems everyone is getting married these days.

ALAN: Well, we've got Aaron and his colleagues to thank for that!

DOCTOR CURTIS: (apprehensive) Alan…

ALAN: Oh come now, Aaron; there's no need to be modest. Your work, and that of your clinic, has made it possible for deviants everywhere to live normal lives.

RECEPTIONIST: That's right.

BLOND MAN: Well said.

BLONDE WOMAN: Absolutely! I can't even imagine what it must have been like for poor Janet before she got her treatment.

RECEPTIONIST: (puts a hand on the BLOND WOMAN's arm, gently, smiling at her) I can't say it was easy, but that's all in the past. (Turns to Doctor Curtis, smiling) I'm a different person, now.

DOCTOR CURTIS looks at the RECEPTIONIST with alarm.

RECEPTIONIST: Doctor? Is anything the matter?

Everyone watches DOCTOR CURTIS, who seems at a loss for words. The telephone rings.

DOCTOR CURTIS: If you'll excuse me…

DOCTOR CURTIS excuses himself, walking across the room to the telephone. The other guests keep talking in the background. We hear snippets of their conversation interspersed with DOCTOR CURTIS's call.

DOCTOR CURTIS: Doctor Curtis speaking. (suddenly worried) Hello?

 

CUT TO: INT. MR. ADAMS's LIVING ROOM – EVENING

MR. ADAMS is on the phone, looking flushed and desperate. In the background we see ELANOR, clearly on the verge of tears, watching him intently. In the following conversation, we cut between the locations of DOCTOR CURTIS and MR. ADAMS as they are speaking.

MR. ADAMS: I need help, Doctor! I can't do this anymore!

DOCTOR CURTIS: (speaking softly) Wayne? Wayne Adams? I heard you came to see me this morning, but you never came back. Is everything all right? Are the pills still not working?

MR. ADAMS: (growing hysterical) That's just it, Doctor; they are working! I can feel myself… changing… (behind him, ELANOR bursts into tears)

DOCTOR CURTIS: (glancing back at his guests) I… I don't understand.

MR. ADAMS: (yelling, now) Don't you see, Doc; I don't want to change! Not now! I didn't think it would be like this; I didn't think at all; I just wanted to be normal, like everyone else!

DOCTOR CURTIS: I… (frowns, lost for words – in the background, the guests are laughing at the punchline of a joke)

MR. ADAMS: Elanor's not my sister, Doc. She's my…

DOCTOR CURTIS: (interrupting) I'd guessed as much.

MR. ADAMS: Well, what's going to happen to her? I can't live like this; I can feel myself slipping away. What do I do, Doc? Tell me what to do!

 

INT. THE CURTIS'S APARTMENT – EVENING

CLOSEUP of ALAN and the BLOND MAN sharing a joke. In the background DOCTOR CURTIS is just visible, standing stiffly by the phone. The doorbell rings.

ALAN: That must be Alex; I'll get it.

ALAN excuses himself, and rises from the sofa. POV shifts to DOCTOR CURTIS, who is speaking very softly, yet emphatically into the phone.

DOCTOR CURTIS: Listen to me. Wayne; it's important that you listen very carefully to me, now. The pills… they'll change you. Maybe people like you… people like us are deviants; maybe we're one of nature's mistakes. Maybe we need help, but this isn't the way to go about it.

ALAN: (opening the door in the background, out of focus) Alex! How wonderful to see you!

DOCTOR CURTIS: (with growing alarm) No… No! You don't know what you're saying; please, you can't do that to yourself! You're young; you've got so much to live for…

As DOCTOR CURTIS's voice rises, we see a CLOSEUP of each party guest reacting with shock in turn; first the RECEPTIONIST, then the BLOND MAN, the BLONDE WOMAN, ALAN, and finally ALEX; a tall, square-jawed, dark-complexioned man. MUSIC SWELLS as ALEX's face is revealed.

ALEX: Aaron? Aaron, darling; is everything all right?

DOCTOR CURTIS: (darkly; holding his hand over the receiver) I think perhaps you'd better go.

ALAN, taking the cue, starts herding the guests out.

ALAN: Come on, everyone; the good doctor is having trouble with a patient. We'll leave him be.

Somberly, the guests leave; the RECEPTIONIST kisses the BLONDE WOMAN on the cheek, and takes her hand as they rise together.

RECEPTIONIST: Come on, Sam. (they leave together)

ALAN beckons to the BLOND MAN, who takes his hand and looks at him tenderly as they leave together. ALAN gives ALEX a worried look as he closes the door. ALEX waits a moment, then starts walking carefully towards DOCTOR CURTIS, a worried look on his face.

DOCTOR CURTIS: (nearly in tears) I… I don't know what to tell him. Alex… I love you… and I don't know what to tell him.

MUSIC SWELLS

ROD SERLING: (voiceover) What is 'normal'? Doctor Curtis thought he knew the answer, and made his living by it. Doctor Curtis, with his nice, normal job, and his nice, normal family, has found that you shouldn't take any definition for granted… in the real world, or in the Twilight Zone.


End file.
